Page 37 of Hooked

The smell of coffee wakes me up in the morning. Taco still has a towel over his bowl.

“Sorry, buddy,” I say. He weaves angrily until I feed him.

I take a shower and pull on some clothes before heading downstairs.

To the kitchen.

I’m glad to find it empty.

I think.

I pour some coffee and head to the ballroom. Sia’s on the ladder again, this time in boots. She’s wearing a silky purple blouse with a big bow tied at the neck tucked into a pair of wide legged wool pants. She’s too busy replacing a bulb in the light string on the tree to notice me.

“I thought we’d talked about safety in the workplace.”

I startle her and she loses her balance. My hand shoots up to steady her and I’m full-on palming her ass.

I’d come in intending to apologize and now I’ve made things even more awkward.

She takes hold of the ladder and she’s turned a gorgeous shade of pink.

“Sorry,” I say, reluctantly pulling my hand away.

She tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about, Vinny.”

She means about what happened last night.

“We’re both adults,” she continues. “And you’ve been clear about your feelings.”

I still feel like shit, though. I want to be the right person for her, but I’m just not.

She turns back to the tree and screws in the bulb. The tree lights up.

I let her climb down from the ladder.

“Boots?”

“They have square heels.”

“Oh, well, of course that’s different.”

She laughs, and I find myself desperate to touch her again. We stand there for a few minutes. My inability to act here only confirms that I can’t be the man she needs.

“The passenger ferry gets in around six,” I say, finally. “The cargo ferry should be here already with my shingles.”

“You sure I can’t help you with that roofing?” she asks.

“No, you’ve already violated OSHA safety standards with regards to ladder use and I’m afraid the union just can’t abide such flagrant rule breaking.”

“Too bad,” she says. “I bet I’d be great at roofing.”

“You’re probably great at most things.”

She smiles wryly. “Not so sure about that.”

I’m making things so much worse. She’s given me an out, and I just can’t take it. Why? Why won’t I?

She’s like one of those mythological sirens. I’m not ready to wreck on her shore, though. Not yet. I need some time alone to think.

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